


fiat lux

by mulkki



Category: Aldnoah.Zero (Anime)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-14
Updated: 2015-01-14
Packaged: 2018-03-07 13:14:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 839
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3174646
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mulkki/pseuds/mulkki
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harklight meets his new superior.</p>
            </blockquote>





	fiat lux

**Author's Note:**

> I started writing this before the first episode of season two came out, so alas, this is pure speculation that will probably end up being entirely wrong. I was just super into how a magazine article described Harklight and... and really needed to get this out of my system. I'm sorry.
> 
> prays for more Harklight prays for more cute martians

Count Saazbaum tells him one night, as they pass through a nondescript hallway.

 _It’s a very important job_ , and a difficult position, and requires the utmost care in handling, he says--all in a low, drawled tone that could have just as well described a particularly nice meal--and of course this means to Harklight that this conversation will have never happened. When they part ways here they’ll have finished a trifling conversation (small talk--maybe about the dust storms, those have been kicking up lately), not secrets to hide from the other Orbital Knights.

Nonetheless, Harklight nods and packs his things that night.

\-----

His reassignment to (the previous) Count Crutheo’s castle is not entirely smooth.

There are still fragments of rebuilding all around, the nearly wrecked Landing Castle (Count Saazbaum’s handiwork, _well done_ , sir) still requiring a lot of work to become functional again. Unfamiliar staff collide with former (and still injured) inhabitants, pieces of the former system at odds with the rebuilding meant to serve its successor.

(Renovations, he notes, that the succeeding knight has not ordered--he knows, because he has handled most of the paperwork for these renovation orders placed by Count Saazbaum. The forms all carry neat repetitions of the new knight’s signature: narrow, orderly letters that sit just shy of the signature line, not quite filling up the space available. But the requests and demands are all Count Saazbaum’s, large, bold strokes of his pen ordering construction and placements while no notes, no remarks, no requests come from the person himself--just the same name, _“Sir Slaine Troyard”_ , lying on each bottom line like a schoolchild’s penmanship drills.

It’s really not his place to pry, but after the twenty-second form his curiosity gets the better of him and he investigates his new superior. He tells himself this is important research, he needs to know what kind of person he’ll be serving under and reporting to.

Reporting “on” stays in the back of his mind, not clearly thought but lingering there in the back, all the same.)

\------

He’s developed a new nightly habit.

His nights used to be quiet, calm, and studious: clean up, prepare for tomorrow’s duties, and research Earth. There’s a picture of the blue planet on his desk, next to the books he reads every night to learn more about the planet his ancestors left behind--

_(--for this husk--)_

\--and the life still living--

_(--really living--)_

\--there.

(He stares more at the picture than the words on the pages.)

His nights now are still quiet, still studious--but with each new information he uncovers (--born a Terran, arrived to Vers on a crashing spaceship with his scientist father, survived the invasion and rescued the seemingly dead First Princess--) his brows furrow and the books on his desk grow dustier. He looks less and less at the picture of Earth and more and more at the grainy photo on his screen, not thinking about why this boy from the blue Earth has drawn so much of his attention.

  


\------

  


It’s when they finally meet, the young knight finally coming to occupy his new Castle, that it hits him.

The clear blue eyes look up at him from behind fair hair, a heavy uniform, and a frozen smile, with a view of Earth shining from behind--

_\--oh._

  


\------

  


“Thank you, Mr. Harklight. That will be all.”

“Yes, Sir Slaine.”

Narrow shoulders rise and fall with his quiet, shaky chuckle. “Really, you don’t need to be so formal with me. You’re older and I’m a Terran, please don’t feel as if you must address me like that.”

Harklight clears his throat, for possibly the thirtieth time.

“You are a noble and proud knight of Vers, Sir Slaine--your many accomplishments have awarded you this title, and you deserve to be addressed as such. And please, there’s no need to be so polite with me--there is no need to add ‘Mr.” when you address me.” He bows, for emphasis. “Sir Slaine.”

He sighs, shaking his head--his eyes _(so blue)_ fall downward, sideways, upward, _anywhere_ but Harklight’s straight gaze. He searches the cold metal of the hallways for a reply, but eventually finds none and gives up. He turns to the door instead.

“Good night, Mr. Harklight. You are dismissed.”

“Yes, sir.”

“And…”

“Yes, sir?”

He fidgets with the hem of his uniform--material finer than Harklight’s own, twisting as he struggles for words that slip through his grasp.

He shakes his head. “I’ll… I’ll see you tomorrow. Good Night.”

With that he turns and enters the room, into cold green glow and the beeping of monitors--

\--well, Harklight might have heard wrong. He also might not have seen anything. Perhaps there is nothing to report about Sir Slaine’s actions for tonight. He is simply retiring for the night, Harklight decides.

He is simply retiring for the night, Harklight decides. And continues to decide every night as he writes his reports, under the blue glow of Earth from his monitor.

_Nothing to report--all is quiet._


End file.
